The Seven Voices of Pakistan’s Asma Jahangir

On February 11, Asma Jahangir, Pakistan’s leading voice among democratic rights activists, died. She was an example of an exceptionally strong and outspoken woman in a male-dominated world; her legacy is rooted in a decades-long struggle. Her death leaves a void that will be difficult to fill. Her life has been well-documented in the press in the weeks following her passing, so let us instead listen to her words. Below, I have selected seven quotes that summarize her views and while the number – seven – was accidental, it is perhaps perfect: Jahangir faced so many battles in her life, and fought for so many rights, on so many fronts, that it would take another person seven lives to achieve what she did with her one.

“Divorce is the cheapest thing in Pakistan.”

Women’s rights and female empowerment were the first and foremost ideals with which Jahangir was preoccupied for most of her life. She started an all-women law firm that has helped many women in their legal battles and protected them from abuse (though the company also helped men). She opposed Quran-based laws that led to the abuse of women and restricted their freedoms. Jahangir also pointed out, for instance, that it is an issue in Pakistan that women who face violence at home are afraid to demand a divorce. At the same time, however, she claimed that divorce was too easy in Pakistan – for men, that is. Jahangir was of the opinion that certain solutions, such as the equal division of assets upon divorce, would stop men from splitting their marriage bonds too easily and too often. In a country of strong Islamic conservative currents like Pakistan, the boldness of both Jahangir’s views, as well as her words and acts, made her an exceptional person.

“Lawyers and human rights activists don’t defend terrorists but they defend their right to have due process.”

Jahangir’s moral and legal idealism led her to believe that everybody should have a fair trial. She accused the Muttaqida Quami Movement party of having “a machinery for violence in Karachi” in 2011, and yet a few years later she defended the leader of the party, Altaf Hussain, in a court case, when she believed it was the right thing to do. She defended Pakistani Christians in blasphemy cases, but also claimed that people accused of being radical Muslim terrorists should be entitled to a fair trial. She was against military courts not only because she detested military rule but because she was of the opinion that a trial at a military court could not be fair.

“I am certain that even Hitler made some good roads! But that doesn’t justify a military or repressive regime.”

Given that Pakistan has been under the rule of generals for many of its independent years, both Asma Jahangir and her father risked a lot by boldly facing the military’s authoritarian rule. The “deep state” of the army, its intelligence wing (the ISI), and the companies attached to the armed forces have a lot of defenders in Pakistan. They often argue that the dictatorship of generals offers stability, protection against terrorism and separatism, and that the army is the only bulwark against the archenemy – India.

Jahangir would have none of that. For her, military dictatorship – or any kind of dictatorship – was always wrong, even if it did have some positive sides. This stance landed often landed her in trouble, including the time she was placed under arrest (with a number of other people) during General Pervez Musharraf’s regime. Yet, she continued to criticize Musharraf. Even when in the United State she would point out that Americans were wrong in supporting the general and that U.S. cooperation with Pakistan was mainly with – and for – the Pakistani military. “These generals think that the army has made slaves out of us,” she said on another occasion.

“... they [the military] want to show the world: if Musharraf is not there, then the Islamists walk in. But ... we have experienced in the past that whenever there has been a transition to democracy, no matter how rocky, how fragile it has been, the Islamists have been marginalized. But there is a nexus between the military and the Islamists regardless of the rhetoric we hear ... it may be a very bad marriage between the Islamists and the military, but I can assure that divorce has not taken place yet.”

To continue exploring the same subject: contrary to the view that the military provides a buffer against Islamic extremism, Jahangir would point to the cooperation between radicals and officers. The above quote refers to the period of Musharraf’s dictatorship, but the point would have been relevant even today. It would have been in fact only made stronger, as Musharraf’s recent declarations show his support for Islamic extremists (though it also should be added that during his rule, radical Muslim officers did try to assassinate him).

But the point is not about the particularities of Musharraf’s rule. A democratic radical and an idealist, Asma Jahangir rejected religious and autocratic radicalism alike, even though some claim that Pakistan may be forced to choose between the two. Jahangir’s general point was that the army is not a bulwark against extremists and, should true democracy prevail, the Islamists would be less, not more likely, to win elections. So far into Pakistan’s modern history, Jahangir has been right: an Islamic party has never won a fair, democratic election in Pakistan (the elections held under the military regime are a different story). She did not believe that a junta is a lesser evil when compared to an extremist, religious theocracy. For her, both were evil and democracy superior. “However flawed the democracy is, it is still the answer,” she once said.

“Once you make a law in the name of religion – and this has happened even in the mature democracies – it’s very difficult to change it. And, secondly, wherever these laws have existed, there has been tension, rather than harmony.”

Jahangir was always against establishing religious laws. She opposed the famous Hudood Ordinance laws in 1980s: a set of legal solutions that were based on a very conservative reading of the Quran. The Ordinance, for instance, made extramarital sex (zina) a crime but both the wording and the usage of the law made it easy to exploit, to the point that many rapes were considered extramarital sex and the raped women were made victims again by the legal system. Jahangir opposed the Hudood Ordinance throughout its existence, despite the fact that it was introduced and kept by the authoritarian and pro-Islamic government of General Zia-ul-Haq. Even in more recent years, she opposed Pakistan’s blasphemy laws, pointing out that they are mainly used to intimidate non-Islamic minorities, who now are afraid to write and say anything outside their homes, as anyone can accuse them of blasphemy.

Yet Jahangir often took pains to speak carefully about religion. She would stress that she is not expert on religion and approached religious issues from a legal standpoint. “If Islam is to progress, Islam and politics should be kept separate from each other,” she once said, and a quote like this would suggest she wished Islam well, if it would only stay away from law and politics. Yet, it was very visible that she considered religious people to be socially and legally repressive.

“Yes, I am very unhappy, extremely anguished at human rights violations against Kashmiris in India, or against Rohingyas in Burma, or, for that matter, Christians in Orissa; but obviously I am going to be more concerned about violations taking place in my own house because I am closer to the people who I live with. I have more passion for them. And I think it sounds very hollow if I keep talking about the rights of Kashmiris, but do not talk about the rights of a woman in Lahore who is battered to death.”

Unlike a number of Pakistanis that focus on external threats to the country (and that in their view often should include India-bashing and calling for the independence of Indian-controlled Kashmir), Asma Jahangir did not look for excuses to avoid discussing the internal conditions of her country. On certain occasions she did point out human rights abuses in Indian Kashmir; for example, she called for the “freedom” (azadi) of Indian Kashmiris, though that freedom, she claimed, should come through “peaceful struggle.” Nevertheless, her fight was not focused on achieving Pakistan’s foreign policy goals. Jahangir was an international rights activist, and yet she was very national: the rights she spoke about were the rights of all humans, and she was willing to speak about them bluntly in case of any country, be it India, Pakistan, or Iran, and without a bias imposed by international friendships and hostilities. “I don’t think human rights challenges ever finish in any society,” she once said in an interview, proceeding to point out rights issues in the United States. At the same time, however, it was the situation in her own country that preoccupied her for most her life.

“The people whom we could talk to [in Balochistan] have been either [been] sidelined, or their voices were muffled, or ended. […] If the federal government will want to talk, whom will it talk to? […] We are the traitors [not the Balochis].”

One of Pakistan’s biggest problems is the situation in Balochistan. Separatist tendencies still flow in the undercurrents of Baloch society, which often feels separate from the rest of Pakistanis and exploited by the central government. There has been violence on both sides, and while many in Pakistan blame the Baloch people for separatism, Jahangir took their side. She would point out that while Balochistan was a major energy resource for the entire country, it was not adequately financed by the federal government. “They are not our colony,” she added. And, as usual in her case, Jahangir stressed that the wide range of atrocities and human rights abuses that took place in Balochistan due to the behavior of the Pakistani security forces was not justified. She emphasized the need for dialogue with political entities in Balochistan and was of the opinion that it was the government (especially the military governments of the past) that made such a dialogue impossible. Thus, while she called for “freedom” in Indian Kashmir, she did not struggle for the independence of Balochistan – but she did stress the need to address human rights abuses in both regions.